


You're A Wizard, Stiles

by veritas_st



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deaton teaches Stiles some more magic, which he practises on Derek...with interesting results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're A Wizard, Stiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starskeeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starskeeper/gifts).



“Come on…two minutes, that’s all I’m asking,” Stiles whines and Derek scowls. As usual. Stiles pushes out his lower lip, it doesn’t usually work, and it looks like it’s not going to work this time when Derek’s scowl deepens and he pushes past Stiles. 

“No,” he growls and reaches the window. 

Stiles hasn’t been at it long, Deaton only just found out Stiles had made more mountain ash in his hands after all, and Stiles had thought that was more to do with the ash than himself. But Deaton had hauled him to the Vet Practice and sat him down and explained. 

Stiles, apparently, was magic. Or had magic. Or something about magic, he kinda lost his train of thought after the mention of magic and began to imagine Hogwarts and wands and butterbeer and chocolate frogs. 

Anyway. Stiles has magic and Deaton has been teaching him a few things, “there will come a day when you need to keep the pack safe, Stiles” he had said, and although Stiles hadn’t really believed him, hey…magic tricks. Who the hell was Stiles to turn down a few free lessons?

He had almost been expecting some more mountain ash magic to be honest, maybe a few card tricks, how to pull a rabbit from a hat. What he hadn’t been expecting was to suddenly feel like he needed to see him mom more than anything. Deaton had smiled gently. 

“We’re jumping straight in Stiles,” he had said and closed his eyes and Stiles had then felt like he wanted to cry. 

“What the hell?” 

“You will, with practice, be able to pull deep down emotions, or feelings from people. I’m sorry I used your mother,” Deaton patted him on the shoulder and Stiles ran his arm under his nose, sniffing.

“S’ok,” Stiles swallowed, if there’s one thing he was good at its swallowing emotions, and listened to every word Deaton says. 

…

After three hours of trying, of trying to feel Deatons’s memories and use them to pull emotions from him, Stiles is exhausted, still unsure how this will ever be useful in protecting the pack, and more than a little grouchy. 

Deaton sends him home with a pat to his shoulder and makes him promise to come back the next day. Stiles grudgingly agrees. 

He gets home, no lights on, his dad’s out, and sighs and he makes his way to his room. He finds Derek sitting on the window ledge. 

It doesn’t scare him anymore, for some reason Derek has decided that it’s perfectly within his right to check in on Stiles whenever he feels like it, and if that means at 10.30 at night when Stiles has a headache pounding at the back of his eyes then that’s that. 

Stiles may not find it scary anymore, doesn’t mean he doesn’t jump slightly. But that’s probably more to do with the fact that Derek’s is stupidly attractive and Stiles finds it hard to speak, let alone think or use his lightning like reflexes when he’s around. 

“And you’re here because?” Stiles asks, shrugging off his jacket and ignoring the need to launch himself at Derek. 

“Where have you been?”

And that right there, that simple question, is what causes Stiles to lose his mind. 

“Oh my God, dude, you should have seen what I did, ok actually it wasn’t that impressive but I think I need to practice on someone who I know better, but anyway, I made Deaton…I wouldn’t say cry, but nearly, you know how? With my mind…”

“You sure it wasn’t with your inane soliloquies?” 

“Funny, no, with my mind. Remember the thing with the mountain ash and Erica and Isaac being stuck on the wrong side?” Derek rolls his eyes but nods, “well I did that, I ran out but I made more…with my hand,” Stiles waves his hand in front of Derek’s face and Derek growls, swipes at it.

“Stiles…” 

“Ok maybe with my mind, but more appeared in my hand…dude…” Stiles pauses and holds his arms out and Derek raises an un-amused eyebrow, “I’m a wizard, Harry.” 

The reference is totally lost on Derek, or so it seems and Derek rolls his eyes and pushes himself off from the window ledge and stalks towards Stiles. 

“Anyway,” Stiles continues, backing away slightly, because hello? Scary ass alpha werewolf stalking towards him. “I totally need to practice…”

“No,” Derek growls before Stiles can even finish, “I don’t know what Deaton’s been teaching you but you are not practising _anything_ on me,” Derek crosses his arms. 

“But…”

“No,” Derek repeats, walks past Stiles and then turns back to him. Stiles swallows and licks his lips and ignores the jump in his pulse as Derek’s eyes slide down to his mouth. 

“Come on…two minutes, that’s all I’m asking,” Stiles whines and Derek scowls. As usual. Stiles pushes out his lower lip, it doesn’t usually work, and it looks like it’s not going to work this time when Derek’s scowl deepens and he pushes past Stiles. 

“No,” he growls and reaches the window. Stiles, for some reason, probably that he has a death wish, closes his eyes and concentrates on Derek, remembers to see him in his mind before trying to pull anything from him. There’s a sharp intake a breath and Stiles opens his eyes, sees Derek’s shoulders tense and his hand gripped tight around the window frame, his nails long and digging into the wood. “Stiles.” 

And that’s when he feels it, the almost overwhelming wave of…Jesus, that’s desire. One downside of this, Deaton explained, is that you feel whatever the other person is feeling. Stiles sways, body tingling with the lust coming from Derek and then suddenly Derek’s there, holding him up and running his hand down Stiles’s face. 

“What did you do?” Derek asks, holding Stiles close and Stiles blinks a couple of times. 

“Did you feel that?” Derek closes his eyes as if in pain, lets his forehead fall against Stiles’s and huffs out a puff of breath against Stiles’s lips. 

“Yeah, I felt it,” he says, and Stiles can feel himself shaking, the desire, need, want, still coursing through his body, and it’s just a residual feeling from Derek, he can’t imagine what Derek’s feeling right now. 

“That was from you,” Stiles says and feels Derek nod, his skin sliding against Stiles’s. 

“Yeah…it was,” Derek’s hand slides down his cheek, curls around the back of his neck and he pulls back as his thumb presses into the skin under Stiles’s chin. 

“But…” Derek shakes himself and lets Stiles go so suddenly he stumbles. Derek reaches out and then snatches his hand back again, like the touch of Stiles’s skin burned him. 

“You weren’t meant to feel that,” he says, voice clipped and there’s a finality in his tone. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” Derek shoves his hands into his pockets and Stiles still feels the hum of something on his skin, like static running through his veins. 

“Because isn’t an answer,” he says and Derek turns away again, runs his fingers over the holes in the window ledge. “Derek,” Derek pauses, half turns back to Stiles, “I…”

“Goodnight Stiles,” Derek’s gone within the blink of an eyes and Stiles falls heavily onto his bed, runs his hands over his head. 

Ok, so apparently Derek harbouring secret feelings for Stiles. 

Stiles can deal with that, he thinks. 

Possibly.

He’s just going to have to work on this little trick of his and get Derek to share his feeling again. 

Easier said than done. 

He goes to sleep with his hands still shaking and dreams of waves crashing against his house, of heat and his skin burning, of falling. And Derek.


End file.
